


Marked

by taichara



Category: Gundam SEED Astray
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 05:21:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4466927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah needs to repair his mobile suit; its the hows -- and the <i>whys</i> -- that chew on his guts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kalloway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalloway/gifts).



Over his head a Frankenstein was looming. His GINN's plating needed welding back into place after all the cutting and re-wiring and replacement parts (those replacement parts ...) and everything else that the poor suit had needed under the armour; but once the plates were secured, welded and bolted, that would be that, for now. It was almost over. 

The repair and refit was almost over, and Elijah still couldn't decide if he'd be grateful, or if he'd be better off just collapsing at the damn machine's feet and howling himself into some kind of stunned daze. Unprofessional as all hell, sure, but he didn't care. 

_Not now. I don't care, not after ... after ..._

After the battle -- worse, the salvage when the battle was over. Diving in before the Guild and the other scrappers started to swarm over the -- the remains, mechanical and otherwise, his GINN spitting and sparking and groaning in complaint over being pushed beyond the call of duty when he, by all rights, should have been returning for repairs and medical checks. 

Talking down and bartering over salvage rights to ... his- to the red GINN before anyone else got to it (and he owed Lowe Gear big time for his surprise intervention there).

Then ... salvaging it. 'Salvaging' -- it made it all seem so simple, so _clinical_ really, when what it _really_ was having to pry the battered cockpit open and ... and ...

No one had questioned, no one had asked. 

He owed his teammates for that, too, even more than he owed Lowe.

Once -- that -- was over, he'd agonized over what to do with the red GINN for what turned out to be not much time at all before the answer burned into his skull. If he used the intact parts of the suit to repair his own machine, then -- then he --

_Then he'd always be there._

_And maybe some of his skill might keep my stupid skin in one piece._

And now all that was left was fitting the plating back into place. The unarmoured portions looked weirdly raw to his eyes, chassis and hydraulics and all exposed to the harsh workbay lights, harsh metal against the dark blue of the intact armour; on the deckplates surrounding the GINN the replacement plates gleamed almost wetly red, waiting.

Red, because halfway through the process, Elijah decided to keep the borrowed plates in their original colours. Red for Veia; blood red for what he'd done to him. Bloody crimson for the blood on his hands. He had no idea what the rest of Serpent Tail would say about it -- what _Gai_ would say -- but he had to do it, he just _had_ to --

"I see it's coming along."

The drawl behind him came out of nowhere and Elijah leapt into the air, train of thought derailing. Gai arched a brow behind his glasses with a faint almost-smile, his attention drifting to the GINN as Elijah stammered.

"Ah ... It's almost finished." 

"Only needs plates? Good, then you'll be ready for our next contract."

Gai kept his eyes on the GINN, head tilted, face unreadable.

"That's going to be a distinctive colour scheme."

Elijah sucked in his breath, ready to -- he wasn't sure what he was ready to do; but Gai kept going. And the almost-smile never changed.

"After that last combat, a distinctive scheme is understandable for someone who did what you did. 

"Good choice, Elijah. I'll look forward to seeing it completed."

\-- and then Gai was gone again, striding briskly from the hangar. Elijah let out the breath he'd gulped.

He understood. He didn't _say_ it -- he didn't have to, not in so many words -- but it was there, buried under the sideways phrasing and everything he _didn't_ say. Gai understood.

... Maybe he wouldn't _need_ to howl it all out, after all.


End file.
